


Butter Fingers - a Drarry drabble

by Stillwriting (Larryhasmyheart)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drarry, Drarry fandom, French Kissing, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, Sexy Draco Malfoy, Snogging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:14:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27991344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Larryhasmyheart/pseuds/Stillwriting
Summary: What really happened the day after Voldemort was vanquished!
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Kudos: 16





	Butter Fingers - a Drarry drabble

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't help myself! Thank you *** for the inspiration!😉 Just a small, one-off Drabble, hope you enjoy! 😉If so, please leave a comment! 😙
> 
> EDIT: ok just realized Harry could have easily used Accio to get his wand...oops! Oh well, perhaps he was so startled he forgot he forgot he could, he he. 😘

Harry Potter was relaxing in the quiet of the small apartment afforded him by Hogwarts after the big battle. The fact they had all defeated the dark Lord Voldemort was still something that flowed through his veins and the feeling of disbelief and wonder still overwhelmed him a bit. He appreciated the privacy and quiet the apartment gave him, and his mind still recalled all the moments that led to the evil Lord's defeat.

Not the least of which the one Draco Malfoy had played a part in.

The moment was still surreal. The vision of Draco Malfoy separating from the Voldemort camp, running across the barrier and calling his name, throwing him his wand, was something he would not forget for the rest of his life, and even now…it filled his mind's eye, and the image was one that stirred a surprising yet very primal response in him. It was no wonder he had fumbled and dropped his wand, but he had recovered enough to turn it on the dark lord and end his life.

In the middle of his musings, he felt a sudden vibration, a magical current, and then heard the distinctive click of someone apparating. He sat up quickly, and realized too late that his wand...Draco’s wand...was out of reach.

He leapt out of his chair just as a figure appeared, and Draco himself stood before him. Normally, such a thing would have been cause for alarm, but after everything that had happened things were different, especially since he had just been...thinking about him.

Draco was dressed in his black suit and robes, his blond silvery blond hair coiffed perfectly, and he stared at him with an intense look that was typical Malfoy. His grey-blue eyes bore into his own, and he found himself standing unable to say a word. Draco took a step towards him.

“Pottah,” he clipped in the only way he could. “You dropped my wand. What a pathetic display of butter fingers.”

Harry stared back, and the light in Draco’s eyes shifted...they darkened like he had never seen before, and he glanced to the wand on his nightstand...the wand they had shared. Was he really going to be upset over…

He felt movement, and when he looked back to Draco, he was standing very close in front of him, and his intense, dark look now held a question. A certain heat flowed from him and enveloped Harry from head to toe, and with quiet astonishment, he realized that Draco wasn’t here to fight...and that realization fed something deep inside him.

“Why?” Draco began, his voice a smokey timbre, his eyes travelling down his chest and back up, and suddenly Harry began to feel very weak in the knees, his breath catching in his throat. Draco lifted a hand to his face and cupped his chin. “Why would you drop my wand when I offered it so gallantly?”

Draco’s words travelled up and down his spine and as his eyes held his, an impossible surge of desire rose in his gut and traveled all the way to his nether regions. He pulled his eyes away to search Draco’s face, and found his lips drawn back in a familiar smirk, an eyebrow raised, but the energy emanating from him was almost animal in its obvious, open motivation for being there.

Harry swallowed deeply and opened his mouth to speak, but he could only try and breath deep to get air. Then Draco stepped into his space until there was none between them, and moved his hand up running it through his hair; a thousand electric bolts shot through Harry as he held his gaze. He didn’t move away, there was no possible way he could have. All he felt at the moment was the inexplicable overwhelming desire to be near him. 

Draco’s expression softened and his eyes filled with a pure, unbridled passionate lust as he pressed his face to his own, and his lips found his. Warm, wet, and tentative at first, but as Harry hungrily opened to him, he gave a little cry. “Pottah!” His tongue slipped into Harry’s mouth and a hand slid up his back, drawing them close together, their hips aligned. 

Harry slid his hands under Draco’s robes and up and down his strong, sinewy lithe back, their lips and tongues searching and dancing in wonderous, surprising heat, quickly growing deeper and more hungry. Draco’s hand slid down his lower back and cupped a buttock, slowly squeezing, Harry felt himself stir against Draco’s hardening groin. He breathlessly pulled his lips away for a moment and ran his tongue down Draco’s neck, whispering into his pale, smooth, tender, skin, “Draco...what the hell, Malfoy, I…Merlin.”

He felt Draco’s lips on his own neck, and he shuddered with desire. “I won’t lie, Potter…” he spoke in a raged, tortured whisper. “I’ve wanted this for a long bloody time.” 

Those words, somehow, were hotter than anything Harry had ever heard, causing an avalanche of shock and awe and lust born from the emotional upheaval of the last few years. Throwing all caution to the wind, he slipped off Dracos robe and tossed it aside, then started on his shirt, and that seemed to be the last straw of restraint. “Yes, Pottah!” Draco growled, responding in kind, slipping his hands under his shirt to run them up his abdomen and chest, lingering on his nipples until a gasp came from Harry, then pulling the shirt over his head.

They pressed together skin on skin, lips on lips, Draco’s hands caressing all the way down his spine. His fingers slid slowly underneath the hem of his trousers past the bottom of his spine, and rested them there a moment. Harry inhaled softly. Then Draco slid a hand inside his trousers and boxers, his fingers gently pressing down between his buttocks and traveling the length of the sensitive area to his anus. Harry gasped and quickly became fully hard; he couldn’t stop an aroused loud groan from escaping his throat, and began to grind against Draco seeking friction. He felt Draco slip his trousers down, and then stepped back to undo his own. 

Harry stood shaking, kicking away his clothes, and soon they were both naked, their cocks fully engorged, staring at one another in appreciation for an instant before becoming entwined again, grinding their hips and cocks against each other, tongues dancing, hands groping, sweat flying, until Harry couldn’t take it anymore.

“Bloody hell, Malfoy,” he rasped in his ear.

“Bedroom, Pottah...now.” 

*

Afterwards, they lay in bed, their post-coital glow full of satisfied wonderment. Sheets were damp, Harry ached just a little, but he had just had the best sex of his life...not that he had had that much..but he was pretty sure nothing could top it. He glanced over at Draco and grinned at his look of smug satisfaction. Everything made so much sense now.

“You know, Draco...that was even better than the thrill of killing Voldemort.”

Draco pulled a slow grin, then burst out in a giggle, and they both laughed a while. Draco finally turned on his side, propping his head on his hand, and gave him a mischievous poke in the chest.

“Yeah...guess I can’t call you butterfingers anymore.”

Harry grinned back at him, then reached for hand, answering almost shyly. “Guess not.”


End file.
